


Love Language

by assholeachilleus



Series: Deaf!jon au [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Lots of cuddles and smooches, M/M, Martin and Jon are so so sappy and grossly in love, Part of my deaf!Jon series that I'm writing now apparently, bc we all need some fluff rn, can be read alone tho, pure tooth rotting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assholeachilleus/pseuds/assholeachilleus
Summary: Part 2 of my deaf!Jon series but can be read alone. Martin's been learning sign language for Jon and wants to try it out with something he's wanted to say for a while. Lots of fluff and cuddles ensue.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Deaf!jon au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072478
Comments: 22
Kudos: 153





	Love Language

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently this is gonna be a series now of snapshots in Jonmartin's lives. Some will be fluffier than others. I can't guarantee I'll keep up this streak of inspiration, but I'm having loads of fun exploring a random idea I got on a whim. As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated, and constructive criticism is always welcome. Hope you enjoy!

Martin's flat was indicative of the man himself; the inordinate amount of fluffy pillows and knitted throws offering whispered comforts, the candles dotted sporadically blanketed the room in a warm glow, leaving tendrils of smoke to curl in the air, the scent of cinnamon hanging in an autumnal haze. 

Two cups of tea rested atop precariously piled books, their worn covers washed in dark rings, and their yellowed pages bursting from their constraints, spines collapsing in on themselves in self-pity. 

Jon and Martin were cuddled on the couch, Jon's smaller frame curled into Martin, his head resting atop the other man's shoulder. Martin lazily carded his fingers through Jon's hair, untangling any knots he found impossibly gently, with a delicateness that to the untrained eye he wouldn’t appear capable of. 

A comfortable silence had settled, like the first blanket of snow in winter, the cushions rustling ever so slightly as they moved. 

Martin glanced down, a fond smile slipping onto his face at the sight that met his gaze. Jon was reading, his head tilted at an angle that no doubt made his endeavour that more tricky, his glasses perched precariously upon the end of his nose, eyebrows pulled together in contemplation. 

"Jon?" 

Jon hummed in acknowledgement, his gaze never leaving the words on the page, eyes hungry, devouring the knowledge the book contained. 

Martin shuffled, hangs wringing in his lap, tumbling over each other in a cyclical race. The action knocked Jon's restful position, causing him to raise his head, sitting up and facing Martin. 

Martin couldn't meet his questioning expression. He swallowed against a dry throat. 

Jon reached out and encompassed Martin's hand in his own, stilling their erratic movement. 

"Martin, what's on your mind?" Jon's voice was soft, his eyes imploring. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his thumb over Martin's knuckles. 

"I, um, I wanted to ask you something." Martin bit his lip, cheeks tingling slightly under Jon's watchful eyes. 

Jon smiled encouragingly, lacing their fingers together, waiting with patient eyes and a kind expression that made Martin want to melt like the steadily receding wicks of his candles. 

"I, um, I thought it would be nice. Um, I looked up some tutorials online. Er, and I thought, well, maybe-" Martin let out a strangled sigh. The words kept tumbling out, but in the wrong order. It didn't sound how he wanted it to. 

"Martin, you know you can ask me anything." Jon brought one of Martin's hands to his mouth and kissed the palm gently. Martin flushed, his heart pounding in time with the blood rushing in his ears. 

"Yeah, I, um, it's not even a big deal really. Um, I just looked at some tutorials online. Er, on, um, well. On sign language. And I thought, maybe, I could, um, try it out…?" Martin looked down at his hands that had settled on his lap, cheeks prickling. 

A wide smile bloomed on Jon's delicate features. He grasped Martin's warm cheeks in cold hands and kissed him. Jon kissed in the same way he read, with grasping hands and an undercurrent of hunger that devoured the subject with his need to know, to understand, and to be known in return. Martin never tired of it. 

"Um." Martin knew his cheeks were flushed. "What, um, was that for? I mean, not complaining. Definitely not. But." 

Jon huffed a laugh, reaching out and squeezing Martin's hand. 

"I, ah, well you learned sign language?" Martin nodded. "For me?" 

Martin shuffled, his own hands dwarfing Jon’s smaller ones. He fondly noted the black smears of ink curling down Jon’s fingers and lacing around his wrists. 

"Well, um, yes? I mean, obviously I'm only a beginner. So, er, I'll be rusty. And I might get it wrong. Um." 

Jon nodded, fondness etched into his features. When he spoke, his voice was soft, his eyes glassy in the low light of the candles. 

"Martin." He said Martin's name like a mantra, like a prayer. There was so much underlying feeling it made Martin's skin prickle. "That, that means a lot to me. It might even be one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me." 

Jon's voice was raw and earnest, his eyes seeking out Martin's own as he lifted his hand to cup Martin's warm cheek. 

Martin swallowed. "I, um, you're welcome…?" 

Jon ran his fingers through Martin's curls, laughing softly. 

"Let's see what you've learned then." 

Martin's hands felt clumsy and stunted, as though wading through thick mud, when he started signing the words he couldn't bring himself to voice. He kept his gaze on his own hands, heart palpitating at the same erratic rate as the flickering of the candles. 

Martin lifted his hand to sign. 

I 

He moved on, fingers tumbling over each other in a race to invoke as much feeling as possible into his actions. 

LOVE 

Martin's blood rushed dizzyingly fast, fizzing through his chest and down his arms and through his veins. 

YOU

Once he was done, Martin's hands stilled, falling limply into his lap. He refused to look up. 

"Martin." Jon's voice was so gentle. It was the inherent tenderness of treating a loved one's wound. A warm drink by the crackling fire on a cold winter's afternoon. A long, reassuring embrace after a tough day. 

"Martin." Jon reached over, fingers impossibly light as they tilted Martin's chin to meet his eyes. 

Martin could see Jon's eyes glistening with unshed tears, his lips pressed tightly together, drained of their usual life and colour. 

Martin felt icy dread settle cold and hard in his chest. And he opened his mouth to say something. Anything. 

But Jon started to sign, and Martin felt a pool of warmth flood into his stomach when he recognised the words. 

I 

LOVE

YOU

Martin laughed, a high pitched slightly hysterical thing that assaulted his own ears. Jon smiled that beautiful, relentless smile Martin had grown to know, grown to call an old friend. 

"That's, um, that's really a relief." Jon wrapped his arms around Martin's frame, melting into his embrace, and pressing their foreheads together. Martin's eyes fluttered shut. 

"I care about you, Martin. So much. And I'm really glad I met you." Jon's voice was barely above a whisper, their noses brushing as Jon shifted, their lips only just shy from connecting. 

Martin opened his eyes. "I'm so glad I met you, too. I, um, I really don't know what I'd do without you." 

Jon pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Martin's nose. 

"Well your poetry would be much duller, for starters." A laugh ripped from Martin's chest. 

"Yes, I, um, suppose it would." Martin brushed the strands of greying hair back from Jon's face, tracing his lips with the pad of his thumb. 

A soft silence settled in the air between them, comforting and warm like an embrace on a chilly day. 

Martin inhaled. He was ready. 

"Jon, I really love you."

Jon smiled. "I really love you too, Martin Blackwood."


End file.
